Criminal Minds Oneshots
by ReidsFanGirl18
Summary: Various CM Oneshots featuring drama, romance, sci-fi, comedy... basically anything I come up with. So far, an alternate ending where Maeve doesn't die, a mysterious wannabe Hitler unsub with more ReidXMaeve romantic goodness and a comedic, heart-warming and realistic gathering of Reid's family complete with an incident involving Reid on a snowboard... Please Review!
1. Saving Maeve

Saving Maeve

How Episode 8x12 should've ended

It was do or die. Get Maeve away from this psycho or lose her forever. Dianne moved in close with the gun. Reid tried to grab it away from her but she held on. It was like a battle of wills, each trying to wrestle it away from the other. Dianne still had the gun aimed at him, he tried to turn it around as she moved for the trigger so that the bullet would hit her instead of him; but it was all he could do to redirect it at the wall.

Dianne stood there, distracted, for a moment, and that moment was all Reid needed. In a moment of athletic prowess that surprised even himself, and certainly would've shocked those who knew him, he kicked Dianne in the stomach, forcing her to fall backward on the ground, and ran toward Maeve. But Dianne swung round and kicked him in the back forcing him to the ground.

"Spencer!" Maeve cried.

He looked up when he heard her voice, but this was the first time he could match it to a face. Finally after ten long months, he was finally doing what he had dreams about so many times, gazing into the eyes of the only woman he'd ever loved. Oh how he'd longed for this but this was not at all how he'd imagined it. He just wanted to knock Dianne unconscious, hug Maeve and get them both the hell out of there.

Meanwhile, behind him, Dianne once again held the gun in her hands. Only this time it was trained directly on Maeve. Reid staggered to his feet and scurried across the room to stand between Maeve and the gun. All self-preservation was gone. His only thought was how to get Maeve out of this alive. Shots had already been fired and he knew that meant the team was already making their way through the building toward them. He just had to find some way to buy them just a little bit more time.

Dianne fired again, this time hitting clean through his left arm. He grit his teeth and for a minute or two his knees buckled under him from the pain. Yet he knew, that if he let himself collapse before help arrived they were both done for, so somehow he found the strength to stand firm.

When he looked up. He saw that the others had finally arrived and they now had Dianne surrounded. Before she could make another move, Morgan approached from the side and put a bullet in her brain.

Reid's heart was hammering a mile a second and the more it raced the more blood he was losing through the wound in his arm. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the shock, but no matter the reason, he finally collapsed and the world went black.

Two Hours Later…

They had gotten both Reid and Maeve to the hospital.

Morgan heard his cellphone ring. He looked down and saw that it was Garcia. He answered it. Do make the whole situation less shock-ridden and lighten the mood they had borrowed code names from the applicable Romeo and Juliet.

"Yes, Lady Montague?" he asked.

"Benvoleo, please tell me that Romeo and Juliet are alright…"

"Romeo was shot…Juliet hit her head and got kinda banged up but she's ok. We got 'em out."

"Reid. Got. Shot?!" she replied, worry causing her to ditch the code names.

"Calm down Garcia, he got shot…in his arm… and it went clean through, he's gonna be fine."

"Well Morgan, when you hear that someone you love got shot you don't exactly take that part for granted."

"Garcia. Relax. It's all good, it's ok now, and the worst is over."

"You're right, good… they're ok, and it's all good… so what happened to the psycho-bitch Unsub who did this?" she asked.

"She's dead, I shot her and I put a bullet in her brain."

"No… no… NO! No that… that is not good enough… I wanna watch her suffer, I wanna watch her BLEED!"

"Garcia… it's a little late for that…"

"I don't care…she deserves it…"

"Garcia… you are coming down here aren't you?"

"I'll be there in ten…I mean 5… I mean I'll be there as soon as I possibly can…"

Meanwhile…

Maeve was led to Spencer, who sat on an exam table, his bloody sleeve rolled up and thick white bandages wrapped tightly around the bullet wound. He looked up and smiled at her as she entered. His expression said that he was on his way down from the adrenaline rush and shock. He was pale with blood loss and exhaustion. She saw a few happy tears escape at the sight of her.

She hugged him tightly.

"Spencer… you…you could've... been... killed…"

"I know…uh…Maeve…ow…ow…."

Realizing that she was hugging him too tightly and hurting his arm she backed off. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…."

"It's ok, I've had worse...besides… you're safe. It was worth it."

"But…But you could've been killed…" she exclaimed.

"Maeve…that's just about every day."

She just hugged him again, this time leaving his injured arm on the outside.

"Please…try not to scare me like that again…ok?" She asked.

"I could say the same thing to you…"

"Fine. Then we're even."

That's when Garcia arrived, she hugged him far too tightly but didn't apologize when he yelped in pain.

"Spencer…you scare me… and not in the usual "you outshine my brilliance with yours" way…oh no…not this time… no. This…I thought I was gonna lose you. Do not scare me like that!"

"Garcia I'm sorry…"

"Oh you'd better be. This is… beyond anything before…"

"Before?" Maeve interjected. "You mean he's been hurt pulling reckless stunts before?" she asked, looking from him to Garcia with an expression of worry, surprise, frustration and maybe just a hint of pride on her face.

Garcia nodded and was about to say something, likely recounting one or more of the incidents she was referring to, but she was met with a hard stare from Reid. The message was perfectly clear. Shut Up. "Well, yes... but all those other times happened years ago and it's...it's not important." She said, shaking her head.

Maeve nodded reluctantly.

"Well whatever…it's finally over…" she said, hugging him again.

"Maeve…" he began, gazing into her eyes. "I love you…"


	2. Toxic

15

Reid: _"Sparta must be regarded as the first völkisch state. The exposure of the sick, weak, deformed children, in short, their destruction, was more decent and in truth a thousand times more human than the wretched insanity of our day which preserves the most pathological subject." – Adolf Hitler_

Toxic

June 14th 2013

It felt like a bug bite, Adam had no idea what he, and others like him, were about to experience. He had no idea that what he'd passed off as a mosquito or an over active nerve on the back of his neck, had actually been a needle prick. And he was certainly unaware of the fatal poison it carried. No, he just jogged pleasantly down the dusky streets of DC, back toward the Metro Police Headquarters, a large bag of Indian takeout food in hand. As he walked across the final crosswalk before his destination, he looked back for a split second and he could have sworn he saw his father. The old man was shorter than his son, and over twice as wide, he stood only 5'4 to Adam's 5'9. His olive-toned skin was weathered by a youth, now long past, spent in hard manual labor, and his once raven black hair was now turning gray and receding.

"What's he doing here?" he thought absently, but he didn't consider his father's presence to be particularly unusual, just an annoyance that came with the territory when you were a detective and the son of a corrupt defense attorney. He shook his head and went inside.

At the BAU, the team had gathered once again in the round table conference room. As they sat down they all exchanged looks of worry and confusion as to why they'd been called back in.

Garcia grabbed the remote.

"Bad things are afoot misname… We have been called back because in the last 36 hours, 8 people have been poisoned and delivered to the ER at Mendel University Medical Center, each was in the middle of a grand-mal seizure."

"Do we know what they were poisoned with?" Hotch asked.

"Negatory…Sir… the lab has found the exact same chemical compound in all their bloodstreams, one that shouldn't be there, however, they're still trying to identify it and we also don't know how they're being dosed."

"Then what has the doctors thinking foul play?" Morgan asked.

"They're suspicious because natural exposure is, at this point, looking exceedingly unlikely because the victims don't work or socialize in any of the same places or with any of the same people…" she replied.

"Is there any other connection between them Garcia?" JJ asked.

"Yes. There is. There's this weird genetic thing that all the victims have in common. A Dr. Gross, really hoping that name was meant to refer to the bird and _not _the adjective_,_ attempted to explain it to me and he made me realize that I should have paid much more attention in biology; that aside, what I did manage to glean from that conversation was that whatever this toxin is, has taken the medical issues associated with the gene mutation and forced them to an extreme that shouldn't even be medically possible."

"Is there any chance that they're being injected? Have they found any needle marks?" Blake asked.

"It hasn't been ruled out… they'd have to be small because no one at the hospital has noticed any, but apparently the symptoms the victims experience in the hours after the seizure make a thorough physical exam impossible… they're still waiting for the first couple of victims to reach a point where they can take a closer look without putting them through more hell then they've already been put through." Garcia told her.

"The doctors are right, someone is orchestrating this. We need to find out who, how, and why, and we need to do it fast. We'll start at the hospital, interview the victims if we can and learn exactly how this works so that we can figure out the Unsub's MO. Let's go." Hotch said, then he stood and they all followed him out.

Maeve was running on auto-pilot as she stormed down the hall toward the front lobby of the hospital. She had to, to save herself from a breakdown so that she could keep doing her job. This was an absolute nightmare… not only were eight people in her team's care who had come in on death's door, but the man she loved was unknowingly in danger of joining them and so far she didn't know if or how she could protect him. She knew that he, and his team, were on their way there to try and find out who was doing this, how, and why. Maeve also knew that as of yet, the team had no knowledge of Spencer's condition and that he didn't want them to know. She hoped desperately that being there would keep him safe and not be the reason that he too, was poisoned.

"Hey…Maeve, I got Elliot stabilized…" she heard a familiar voice say.

She looked up to see her teammate, Ethan, standing there. He was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his jet black afro bouncing as he did so. His large, dark eyes begged her not to snap at him, unfortunately, on this particular night, his puppy-dog look had the opposite to its intended effect.

Maeve glared back at him with a look that said: _yeah…so? What do you want? A medal or something? _

"Do we know what poisoned them yet?" she asked sharply.

"Uh…no… Curtis is still working on that…trying to identify the substance that came up on all the blood work." he replied tentatively, obviously acutely aware that Maeve was in a bad mood and wondering how much of it was his fault.

"And you're still standing here…why exactly? Ethan we're kind of in the middle of a crisis here! Needing all hands on deck is putting it mildly, like describing a tiger, who's already tasted human blood, as a fluffy little kitten; two heads are better than one… Go help him. Now!" She ordered.

He frowned and took off running toward the lab.

Maeve sighed. She knew that she was being too harsh with him, she just… didn't have a lot of patience right now.

When the BAU arrived at Mendel, Maeve was there to greet them.

"Hi guys!" she said. She stole a worried look at Spencer as covertly as possible. He returned her look of concern with one of reassurance.

"Hi." They replied collectively.

"So what can you tell us?" Hotch asked.

"Right now we have 8 victims who were all poisoned with the same chemical compound, that's still yet to be identified, but as of right now everyone who's been effected so far has been stabilized." she told them.

"We've also been informed that there is a genetic connection between all the victims."

"Yes, there is… I can explain exactly how that work in more detail, come to my office." She invited them.

They followed her to a 10X10 foot room with white walls, brown carpet, a couch against the wall to the right of the door, and an extremely cluttered desk on the opposite side of the room with a dry erase board hanging behind it.

"Wow…" Morgan exclaimed, as he stood in the door way and took a glance around the room.

Reid glared at him and elbowed him in the side.

"Yes Morgan, I'm not a neat freak… I need some clutter in order to think straight." She told him matter-of-factly.

Morgan looked from her to Reid and back, clearly wondering how she got along with the neat freak and mild germophobe and vice versa.

A woman in her late forties with shoulder length red hair, wearing red scrubs and a white lab coat stood behind Maeve's desk watching the exchange, waiting.

Maeve turned to face her and took a step further into the room.

"Guys, this is my friend and colleague, Dr. Megan Hunt, Megan is a neurologist by specialty so I've asked her to join us and help me explain. Megan these are Agents Hotchner, Morgan, Jareau, Blake, Rossi, and Reid."

"Hello" Megan said.

"Ok, getting to the matter at hand, all the victims suffer from CH. It stands for Cobalt-Thyonate Hypoplasia. It's a rare, inherited medical condition that effects the central nervous system, the brain itself, in particular." Maeve explained.

"As Maeve said, CH is inherited, but it only begins to manifest itself after a person hits a point we call onset. Onset of CH tends to happen in one's late twenties to early thirties. Cobalt-thyonate is a naturally occurring chemical produced and stored in two glands just below the skull on either side of the spinal cord. It serves as a crucial control mechanism against inflammation and swelling of brain tissue. When you get hit on the head, don't get enough sleep… basically anything that could cause a headache, cobalt-thyonate is released and travels along specialized veins that carry it across the blood-brain barrier to where it's needed. The hypothalamus sends out signals to these glands, one that tells them to produce it and another that tells them when and how much of it to release into the brain. In people with CH, at the time of onset the neuro-pathway that carries the production signal is destroyed but the path for the release signal is left intact."

"So they keep using it but stop making it, what happens when the supply runs out?" Morgan asked.

"Well… it takes a couple of weeks after the person develops the condition for the symptoms to appear as their levels start to get dangerously low. Once that happens the person starts to experience headaches much more frequently and persistently than normal. This is what we call level one, throughout levels two and three the pain intensifies, usually also causing insomnia which only serves to exacerbate the situation, eventually the headaches become full-fledged migraines with sensitivity to light and sound, this only gets worse until we move to level four, this is where the seizures happen. The brain is so swollen and starved for cobalt-thyonate that in a desperate, and fruitless attempt to push the signal through, it over-stimulates itself and thus… a seizure, once they reach this point it can take as little as an hour for them to start to stroke." She paused to let them absorb the information, watching as they exchanged looks of horror.

"Is this treatable?" JJ asked.

"Yes it is…up until eight years ago we didn't understand the genetic and chemical nature of the beast, but now that we do, there is a synthetic form of cobalt-thyonate which serves to replace what their bodies no-longer make naturally, this is completely safe, with no side effects, and has proven extremely effective. As long as the patients take it continuously and they're getting the right dosage, they shouldn't even feel any symptoms. All the victims were on the medication, that's why we know this didn't just happen naturally. Even if they had all stopped taking the meds, it would still take a minimum of 18 months for things to progress this far."

"Just how common is this condition?" Hotch asked.

"It's a recessive trait…" Maeve chimed in. "You have to have two copies of the gene to be effected but if you do have two copies, it's completely penetrant, you _will _develop the disorder."

"In the DC area there are ten known cases, at least twice as many undiagnosed, either because they don't understand what's happening to them or because they're still too young to have hit onset, and there are at least four times as many people who are carriers." Megan told them.

"If this unsub is deliberately poisoning these victims he'd need some way to get information on their medical histories which means he's going after known cases." Blake said.

"Do we even know who they are?" JJ asked.

"Yes we do… once diagnosed, all CH patients have to be followed by a neurologist, from whom they get their medication, usually in three-month supplies. The dosage for this is dependent not just on height and weight but also on several environmental factors that vary from person to person and are in constant flux. As a result each patient sees their neurologist every six months to ensure that the dose they're getting is still accurate and make adjustments if need be." Maeve replied. "Now the trick is finding a neurologist that actually treats this, and because it's so rare, that's easier said than done, there is only one in the area."

"Who's that?" Rossi asked.

"You're looking at her." Megan said.

"Have the remaining two been warned about what's going on?" Hotch asked.

"One has…" Megan began, avoiding pointing out that the person in question was standing less than eight feet away from where she stood. She had been avoiding making eye contact with Reid since he'd arrived. The doctor in her, and the friend of Maeve's, wanted to examine him with her eyes, searching for even the slightest sign that his levels were dropping faster than normal. Obviously she'd intervene if that actually happened, she'd have to… but on Maeve's request, which Megan had the distinct impression was actually his request, she'd help him keep his team in the dark, not even giving the slightest clue that they'd ever met before tonight. They'd cross that bridge if and when they came to it. "I'm still trying to get ahold of the last one though…"

"We realize this is sensitive information… but we could help you track him down if we knew who he was…" Rossi pointed out.

"His name is Adam Costello, he's a 28 year old detective with Metro PD… he was diagnosed a year ago after his partner, who happens to be a personal friend of mine, noticed something was wrong, confronted him about it and made him come see me. His cellphone is apparently turned off, I was about to try his extension at the police station."

Adam couldn't take it anymore, the pain was, at this point, almost unbearable. It was almost eleven o'clock at night and yet he'd resorted to putting his sun glasses back on in an effort to shield himself from the florescent lights above and the glow of his computer screen without having to bother anyone. They helped with the light, but not the noise, or the pain in his head. On one level, it was a persistent, throbbing ache which, at first, he'd chalked up to his body not being very happy with him for working this long while at the same time trying to cut back on the espresso. But then there was the more pointed, stinging pain, like someone was driving a chisel into four points on his skull.

He rummaged desperately through his desk, searching for his medication, he had no idea why it was happening or how, but he knew that this pain could only be caused by one thing. Only, there was a new symptom now, which he had never felt before, he was hotter than hot, everywhere the lights, or even the chair in which he sat, touched his skin or rubbed up against his body, hurt like he'd been sunburned there, badly, which only further confused him because…he didn't burn… he was ninety-eight percent Greek, the other two percent was Italian, his skin didn't burn, he just got darker.

_Oh great… now I'm not even thinking straight… come on…. Focus… _

His instincts told him that the cool night air would help, so he stood up, and walked outside.

Megan dialed the number from Maeve's office phone…

"Hi you've reached Detective Costello's desk… I'm not here right now. Leave me a detailed message and I'll hit you back just as soon as I can."

"Damn…" Megan said. "Voicemail… he might be out on a call, or patrol… either way he's going to be harder than I thought to get ahold of."

A few minutes later, Megan's cellphone started to ring. She picked it up and answered it.

"Dr. Hunt…"

"Megan, hey… thank goodness…"

"Tommy? What are you doing calling me right now? I thought you were on tonight…"

"I am… but listen…"

"Tommy, where's Adam…?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. He's with me, we're right outside the station but Megan… something's wrong…. He keeps saying "my head, my head…" and he was tearing his desk drawer apart looking for those pills you gave him, in the wrong drawer mind you…"

"That's not good…he might not even be able to see straight."

"I'm calling because my guess is you know why…"

"Yeah… I do…"

"Listen Megan, something's up with his eyes… his pupils are so huge I can barely see any white and he's blinking a mile a minute…"

"Then he's about to seize… Tommy listen to me, you have to get him over here, now… don't bother calling an ambulance… that'll just waste time… just get him in here…" She ordered, then she hung up on him.

"We've got another one… Adam didn't pick up because he was too far gone to notice I was calling him."

"When he gets here we'll have to stabilize him quickly…" Maeve said.

"Maeve go get the Cobalt-Thyrosine, twenty CC's in a syringe, we're going to have to do this by injection…" Megan said.

Maeve nodded and left the room.

Ten minutes later, Adam came into the ER, being carried over his partner's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was just beginning to convulse. Tommy set him down on a gurney he found against the wall. Megan held him down while Maeve injected the medicine into his neck. A few minutes later, he began to stabilize as it took effect.

Once he stopped convulsing they moved him to a specialized section of the ICU where all the others were. Then they pulled Tommy into Maeve's office where the BAU was waiting.

"Is everything ok?" Hotch asked.

"We managed to get him stabilized… he'll be alright in a few days…"

"We'd like to speak with him if possible." Blake requested.

"That's a bad idea right now, he's too out of it to give you much and he's still too sensitive to light and sound. Right now he's lying in intensive care, and we're keeping it as quiet and dark in there as possible." Megan said.

"Understood…" Blake replied.

"But this is his partner at Metro, Detective Tommy Sullivan, he was with Adam up until he got here…"

"So what can you tell us Detective?"

"Adam has been my partner for over two years now… He's a smart kid, but about eight months after we started working together, I started to notice that something was wrong. He tried to hide it, but I could tell he was in pain, and he wasn't as sharp as he usually was. When I would ask him what was wrong he'd usually chalk it up to too many hours and not enough coffee, then finally he slipped and wondered out loud whether or not this was how his brother had felt in the months leading up to his death. When I sat there staring at him with my jaw dropped he told me that his brother had died of a stroke when he was barely thirty, that's when I pretty much made him come see Megan. Then tonight he brought us Indian takeout food from a restaurant called Kwiki and since then, it was like a replay of everything I'd noticed before just happening over the course of two hours instead of a year."

"Who else was aware that Adam had this?" Hotch asked.

"Just the people in this room, and Adam's father… those too don't exactly see eye to eye, the old man is a local defense attorney and a corrupt one at that but they aren't exactly enemies either… aside from the people we put away, all of whom are still in prison, Adam doesn't have any enemies."

Morgan turned to Maeve. "Is it possible that this guy's brother really did die of this thing?"

"Yes, there's a one in four chance that he had it, and because that all happened before we figured out how to treat it, yes it's possible that it was allowed to progress and kill him." She answered.

"Ok, well that still doesn't give us any viable suspects… I mean why would the father who had already lost one son to this disease, use it to poison his other son along with eight other people?" Hotch pointed out.

Maeve and Reid exchanged horrified glances…

"I hate to say it, but we could be looking at a eugenicist…" Maeve told them.

"A what?" Morgan asked.

"Eugenicists believe that the advances made by modern medicine actually weaken mankind and that those who carry or suffer from genetic abnormalities that threaten either their health or that of their children shouldn't be permitted to reproduce and in extreme cases think they should even be killed off. This was the mindset behind the Holocaust and several other incidents of ethnic and genetic cleansing." Reid explained.

"I think Maeve's right." Blake said.

"So the question is, how do we find this loser when we don't know who they are or how they're doing this?" Morgan asked.

"Those questions just got some answers." Ethan said, standing in the doorway. "Curtis and I finally managed to identify the poison, it's endocrine-oxide, it's supposed to have been banned for years but in the old days they used to put it in a lot of house-hold cleaners, the kind we now know you shouldn't have around small children or pets."

"Endocrine-oxide wouldn't cause something this severe though…" Reid pointed out.

"Not normally, no. But with the high levels found in the victims coupled with the fact that they'd be more vulnerable to its effects anyway, it actually could and based on the tests, did." Ethan told him.

"How exactly are they more vulnerable to it?" JJ asked.

"Endocrine-oxide is mildly toxic because it causes cobalt-thyonate to be released in abnormally large amounts and the brain only needs so much and can only hold so much, it essentially depletes the supply by wasting some of it. Normally this is only a problem if it's in an extremely high dose, but imagine if someone with CH was exposed by some means where instead of inhaling it, the usual means of exposure, it was somehow delivered directly into their bloodstreams…" Megan explained.

"That's gotta be a disaster waiting to happen…" Morgan said.

"Exactly." She replied.

"Ok so we know what the Unsub is using to poison these victims but…" Blake was cut off by Ethan.

"We also know now, how they're being dosed. Cassidy, the first victim, is finally well enough to be of some help, and I found a needle mark on the back of her neck…" he told them.

"If it's by injection then this Unsub has to get fairly close to the victims…" Blake said.

"That only helps if they can identify them afterward though, and given what they end up going through, that's a long shot…" Rossi reminded them.

"So where does that leave us? How do we find this Unsub?" Hotch asked.

"We can start by finding out who had access to the chemical the Unsub used to poison them and cross-reference that with anyone who knew any of the victims well enough to know about this or who had access to their medical records." Morgan suggested.

They called Garcia…

"Finally, I was starting to think you would never call…"

"Well we need your help now Babygirl…" Morgan told her. "The Unsub is using a banned chemical called endocrine-oxide to poison the victims so we need to know who would have access to it and cross check that with anyone closely connected to the victims or anyone who had access to their medical records."

"Sorry guys, no dice, I got a few people who still supply the stuff to labs who study its effects but none of them have any connection to the victims that I can find, tell ya what though, I'm going to run their phone records and see if there's a less direct connection, back in a few." And with that she hung up.

She called back five minutes later.

"I'm a girl-genius… there is exactly one common denominator between any of our victims and that list of suppliers I found earlier and his name is Jerry Costello, he's a local defense attorney, the father of Adam Costello, victim number nine and… drum roll please… he's called a endocrine-oxide supplier by the name of Toby Miller eighteen times in the last week. I also went through his bank records and he's deposited almost a thousand dollars in cash to Toby's savings account. I just sent you the addresses of this guy's home and law firm."

"Penelope you are a mad genius... thank you." Moran replied.

"You are most welcome…"

Two hours later they had raided his home and his office but Jerry Costello hadn't been at either location. But they did find out how he'd identified and located his victims, he'd hacked in to Mendel University's electronic record system. Now they were back at the hospital.

"This guy is in the wind because he's not stopping until he's poisoned all ten of his targets… he's looking for the last one and my guess is that when he finds out all the others have survived so far that's only going to enrage him. We need to find this guy and fast. The question is how." Morgan said.

"We need a plan B…" JJ said.

"Maybe we could somehow draw the Unsub out…" Rossi suggested.

"How would we do that? There's only ten people that this guy is after and he's already gotten to nine of them…" Blake pointed out.

"Here's what we do… we get Dr. Hunt to tell us who number ten is… then we put them in discrete protective custody, surveillance basically. The second Costello makes his move on them, we make ours on him…" Morgan suggested.

"That might work… but she's not going to tell us… and even if she did, we can't ask that…" Hotch said.

"Do we have another option?" Reid asked defiantly, speaking up for the first time in hours.

So they went back to Maeve's office where they found her and Megan going over all the victim's charts again.

"Dr. Hunt, we need you to tell us who number ten is…" Hotch said.

"I can't do that…" she replied.

"Please Dr. Hunt… whoever they are they're in danger until we catch this guy… as are the other victims because he _will_ circle back once he finds out they all survived. If you tell us who they are we can protect them and bring Costello to justice at the same time…"

Having suddenly realized what Hotch was suggesting, Maeve unconsciously shot an alarmed look from Reid to Megan and back.

"I won't tell you… if he wants to tell you, if he wants to do this that's fine… but I'll let him tell you…" Megan said, meeting Reid's gaze directly for the first time. She gave him a look that said, _Are you sure you want to do this? _

He answered with a small abrupt nod in the affirmative.

"I don't have a choice…" He said out loud.

The others turned to face him, exchanging shocked glances at each other.

"Spence…?" JJ said. What she really meant was: _It's you? Why didn't you ever tell us? _

"Yes… It's me… I didn't tell you because… because I didn't want you all to worry about me… it's been going on for roughly three years now… and a year and eight months ago I reached out to Maeve, hoping she could tell me what we really going on… no one else I'd reached out to had been able to give me any answers. She ran the DNA test… it came back positive for CH, and when it did she put me in contact with Dr. Hunt… but the more we talked… the more we got to know each other, the more Maeve and I realized we had in common…" He confessed.

"Reid… you don't have to do this… you could be killed…"

"Actually Hotch, I do have to do this…" He replied.

"No!" Maeve exclaimed. "No! Absolutely not… Spencer… please don't go through with this…"

"Maeve I have to…"

"But what if he gets to you before they take him down? You could die… do you realize that?"

"I know… but I'm already in his crosshairs… I can't just go home and wait for him to come after me at my apartment when the others aren't around. It's time to take the fight to him."

"I can't argue with you there…but still…"

"Actually… if I can cut in here… there is a way to protect you from the effects of the poison." Megan said.

"How?" they all asked at once.

"Remember how Tommy said Adam was looking for his medication? In his case it was already a bit late for that, but he had the right idea. If we get a high dose into you before he has the chance to get at you, it'll act as a buffer. You might still feel level one or two…but it will protect you from level four…"

"Ok… I don't have it here right now but…"

"You don't need yours… we're injecting it right into your neck… it's more potent that way because you don't metabolize some of it in transit…" She replied.

"Oh…" he said, taking a hard gulp.

"Reid… it's either this, or we call off the plan." Hotch ordered.

He nodded.

"Ok then… let's get this over with… you…me… my office…" Megan said.

Reid followed her down the hall.

Once they were there, she pulled a sterile syringe and a bottle of cobalt-Thyrosine out of the cabinet. She twisted off the hard lid and stuck the point of syringe through the bottle's rubber seal. He watched as she drew out the red liquid to the mark labeled two-hundred milliliters. He took a seat in her desk chair.

"That's a lot, isn't it?" He asked.

"Not really… the maximum the average adult is capable of holding at one time is about 150 milliliters… and each of us uses between 80 and 140 a day… this is 200… it's a little more than what you normally take… but not all that much more… left your hair please." She ordered.

He obeyed.

She put a roll-on numbing agent where the needle was about to go in.

"This is going to go in pretty deep so if it hurts, let me apologize in advance…" She said, then she stuck the needle in deep enough and when its tip hit what she was looking for, she put her thumb to the back end of the syringe and drove its contents into his body.

Reid sat there, staring blankly ahead while she did so. He hadn't felt anything until the needle went deeper into the muscle, but he was determined to act as if this too, didn't hurt.

She pulled the needle out a moment later. "There… we're done…"

"Th-That wasn't so bad…" He said as convincingly as he could.

"Yeah right Tough Guy, you just keep telling yourself that and remember it would be a lot worse if you were poisoned without this…"

He nodded and they rejoined the others.

"He's ready…" She said.

Within the hour he was home, with Maeve… As they waited for Jerry Costello to make his move. It was quiet in the apartment, neither said a word to the other, they just sat there, snuggled on the sofa while the minutes ticked by.

Finally… at four in the morning… Someone picked the lock and a dark figure entered the apartment. He stepped softly into the pitch black living room and stuck a small needle into the exact spot on Reid's neck where Dr. Hunt had injected the very thing that would counter the poison just an hour beforehand. As it had with all the others, the endocrine-oxide forced the cobalt-thyonate to flood out into his system as his brain swelled and sent out an amplified release signal, but unlike the others, he had enough in him that it only hurt him for a moment, just long enough to wake him. He pushed the signal pen that Hotch had given him, which told all the others that it had happened. Morgan, who'd been lying in wait just down the hall, snuck up on the Unsub and arrested him.

A week later, Spencer went to the park, only to find that his usual reading bench was occupied by Adam Costello.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked.

"No, not at all…" Adam replied.

Reid sat down next to him.

"I saw you at the hospital last week…" Adam said.

"I'm sorry about your dad…"

"Don't be… things were never right between me and him anyway… and he kinda lost it when my brother died… I always knew he'd do something crazy… I just never knew what or when… Thought I have to admit… this was the furthest thing from my mind… I thought… after we found out that Andrew most likely died of CH before it was treatable… if anything he'd use his influence to help us… not go on a rampage trying to kill off everyone who has it to try and eliminate it from the gene pool…"

"Sometimes grief warps the mind, and love can make people do crazy things…"

"Love…that's a laugh… he tried to kill me… the only son he had left… I don't know who that man was…but he's not the father who raised me…" He paused, then he turned to face Reid and asked: "What was your name again?"

"Dr. Reid… but you can call me Spencer…"

"Ok Spencer, mind taking a walk with me? I want to show you something…"

"Lead the way…" he answered. Both men stood and they walked until they came to a cemetery about a block away, then Adam led them to a particular gravestone that read:

Andrew Costello

1974-2004

Hero, Brother, Friend

They stood there for a moment in silence until Adam spoke.

"Our real father died with him…"

Reid thought about that, and for awhile he didn't know what to say. Eventually he just asked: "So what now?"

"Now? Now I try to get on with my life… speaking of which… do you play chess by any chance?"

"I love chess…"

"Then I challenge you to a match…"

"You're on…"

_Reid: "Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." - Benjamin Franklin_


	3. The Reunion and the Snowboarding Fiasco

Unknown elderly female: ""Being a detective isn't all about torture and murder and monsters. Sometimes it gets truly unpleasant...The fate of the world may depend on whether or not you can bring yourself to visit your relatives." - Derek Landy

Reid couldn't believe this… he was forced to take annual leave, which he never did, and now what lay ahead of him, was two whole weeks with his extended family on his mother's side. This meant his loving, neurotic, harebrained, doting grandmother, and his four cousins… Tim, Sarah, Paul, and Joey…

In all honesty, they weren't actually all that bad…

Tim was his elder by seven years to the day… to say he was a computer geek was putting it mildly, and he was into baseball, had an oddly intense obsession with hovercraft technology and the Lord of the Rings, and listened to bad 90's rock music… but he'd always had Spencer's back whenever he'd been needed. He was like a big brother and a father-figure all rolled up into one, and he acted the part. Always supporting him, pushing him to face down problems he'd rather shy away from but shouldn't, and giving him a kind of safe harbor, complete with an ever-willing source of advice, whenever he journeyed into uncharted and perhaps dangerous waters, whether he'd gotten there by choice or not.

Paul was considered the "normal one"… he was smart but hadn't been dealt the double-edged sword of being a prodigy… he was a musician and a detective in Trenton New Jersey, and had found his soulmate in his long-time girlfriend Robin, whom he'd been dating since 1997 but only recently had they finally gotten engaged. Paul still retained his teenage recklessness, thus he actually thought he could snowboard when the rest knew he couldn't even if his life depended on it, and he had the annoying habit of turning the amp on his prized electric guitar up to a volume that could likely be heard from the next county at three in the morning. Still, Paul reminded Spencer a lot of himself in personality, that is, himself as he probably would be if he had more average interests and a few more social skills.

Joey was the family oddball. A classic mad genius… he held PhDs in mechanical engineering and environmental chemistry, both subjects he taught at Montana State University, though he retained the part-time job at the local auto shop he'd held since his thirteenth birthday. Most surprisingly, he'd done two tours in Iraq over the five years he'd done in the marine core. This was a shocker first because of his long but tiny, non-muscular frame and secondly because everyone who knew him understood that structure was not his thing and would have thought basic training would have driven him completely insane. Somehow he'd managed to survive, mostly mentally intact; but after he got out he was every bit as repulsed by structure and order as he ever had been...perhaps even more so. He had a love of jeans a size too big and stained, white, sleeveless undershirts… between this and the oversized, thick-rimmed glasses… Joey looked more like a hobo than a professor. If Joey could be summed up by a one-liner, and that was damn near impossible to do with anybody, It was as "a man of contradictions".

Sarah was the youngest of the five, she was a history professor at Georgetown and was, and always had been, a staunch and proud over-achiever. Like Spencer, she had a genius level IQ and an eidetic memory. Unlike him though, she was also exceptionally athletically gifted, holding black-belts in three different martial arts and having been the MVP of her high school and college tennis teams. In short she was as close to perfection as one could hope to attain… but she also tended to put far too much pressure on herself and occasionally began to buckle under it.

He loved them all, though he could apply the concept "too much of a good thing" to these family vacations. Well… at least Maeve was joining him this year… He didn't know if that was a recipe for disaster or if it was the best idea he'd had all year. Either way it was bound to make the next couple of weeks just a little more bearable.

He looked into her eyes and smiled. He loved the way they understood each other so completely that they could almost sense each other's thoughts.

"Thanks for coming with me…" he told her.

"You didn't even have to ask." She replied.

Finally the train pulled into the station in his mother's home town of Mt. Bedford New York… He looked out at the sleepy little town before him as so many childhood memories of previous reunions and summer vacations came flooding back…

"Did you used to come up here a lot?" Maeve asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Every Christmas, 4th of July, and Thanksgiving when I was a kid…" He replied. He went on to explain. "My cousins and I, for the most part, grew up in three different states, and our grandmother always insisted on getting us all together multiple times a year… she always said that a family who never got the chance to know each other wasn't much of a family at all."

With that, they stood, grabbed their bags, and left the train for the platform.

On a bench some distance away, sat Spencer's cousin Tim. Tim was a few inches shorter than Spencer and on a stockier frame but he wasn't particularly muscular either. He had short brown hair and large blue eyes.

He peered at his watch. They should be here by now… he thought. He peered up and down the platform and when he saw them he raised his arm and waved at them. Spencer waved back and Tim and the pair, walked toward each other.

"Hey Tim…what are you doing here?"

"I thought catching a ride in my truck would be easier than walking all the way across town up to Nana's…" He said.

"Ah…Thanks…"

"Sure thing." He said. Turning to Maeve. "So you must be Maeve…" He said, grinning.

"Yep." She said happily. "Nice to meet you…"

"Likewise…" he said. "Welcome to the corner of genius and insanity and please… don't let our family scare you off from Spencer… if they do I might…have to have some…words…with them…"

Spencer mouthed a thank you to his cousin that Maeve didn't see.

"Oh come on guys… how bad can they possibly be?"

"Remind me to introduce you to my little sister…" Tim muttered.

20 minutes later they parked and walked up to the huge old white farmhouse belonging to Nana Penny…

"Nana!" Tim Shouted. "I'm back, and they're here…"

At his words a short elderly woman, who looked about fifteen years younger than she actually was, with dark brown hair that was obviously being dyed on a consistent basis, and big stormy blue eyes, came out of the house wearing brown leggings and an orange kimono with red cranes on it. Being surprisingly spry for a woman of eighty-three, she came bounding down the stairs off the porch toward her newly-arrived grandson and his girlfriend.

She hugged him tightly.

"Spencer, Sweetheart, it's so good to see you! I've missed you around here." She told him. Then, still holding his forearms, she pushed him out to arms-length.

"I've missed you too, Nana…" he began, but he was interrupted because apparently she hadn't finished fawning over him.

"My God, what's it been, two years? Three? Oh Honey you need to get out here more…" She said, then she took one of her hands of Spencer's arm and used that arm to elbow Tim in the gut from where he stood behind her. "So do you!"

It was then that she turned her attention to Maeve.

"And this must be Maeve… what a pleasure it is to meet you dear…"

"Likewise, Ma'am."

She hugged Maeve warmly, and then invited them all inside.

"You two are the last to arrive, the twins and Robin got here two days ago, Tim and Sarah arrived yesterday…"

"Hey Guys, 'bout time we were all here."

Leaning casually against the wall, was a man who looked a lot like a carbon copy of Spencer, except this one had longer hair which came down almost to his shoulders and wore brown corduroy pants with a sky-blue, short sleeved, polo-shirt with thin, horizontal, black stripes.

"Hi Paul." Spencer Replied.

Paul called the rest of the family, his fiancé, Robin, Sarah, Tim's sister, and Joey, Paul's own identical twin brother. After pleasantries and introductions were over with, Spencer and Maeve took their bags upstairs. Being that Nana had never replaced the long, narrow, twin bed which had been Spencer's every time he stayed there for as far back as he could remember, Maeve would occupy an unclaimed room just across the hall.

When they returned, the group sat down to a lunch of made-to-order grilled cheese sandwiches with just about every kind of cheese, condiment, and topping one could imagine at their disposal…

"Hey Spencer..." Paul began as they were eating... "Wanna come snowboarding with me tomorrow?" He asked. "The mountain is finally frozen enough to make it fun, and I could use a second. They'll never let me ride it alone..."

"That's because you have a bad habit of crashing into things up there." Sarah interjected.

"I appreciate the offer Paul, but I think I'll pass..." Spencer replied.

"Come on man... don't be like that... it'll be fun. I promise...and I'll take us on the easy slope..."

"Just as long as you guys don't even attempt Dead Man's Revenge..." Joey added. "You'll probably come home alive..."

"Ok... now I'm definitely out..." Spencer exclaimed.

"Now why would I take us up there? That slope is too advanced for me... let alone you..."

Reid gave his cousin a hard stare that said they had better stay the hell away from that place if he expected him to come along.

Paul understood and nodded.

"What time do we leave?" Spencer asked.

"6:30 tomorrow morning... we'll have to hike for awhile to reach the top of the slope." Paul replied.

Spencer nodded but then turned to Maeve with a pleading look. Get me out of this, I'm begging you.

She shook her head. Don't be such a chicken, and don't overthink it once you're up there.

"You boys had better be careful up there tomorrow..." Nana told them, giving each a hard do as I say or else kind of stare.

"Yes Ma'am" they said almost in unison.

"Now..." Nana replied, "Who want's another sandwich?"

The rest of the day was spent with the family, largely in catch-up mode. Each trying to ascertain all that they had missed in the lives of their relatives. Games of chess, cases, classes, and larger developments such as Maeve's arrival and Robin and Paul's long overdue engagement, the possibility of Joey's return to the marine core and possible tour in Afghanistan training officers to use newly designed robots to detect explosives in uncharted territory.

That night, just as everyone else was about to turn in, Maeve followed Spencer into his room. Which he didn't necessarily want her to do, because the room retained all his childhood memorabilia, which he was still somewhat self-conscious about, even with her.

"Maeve, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Spencer, it's now my turn to profile you..."

He sighed, and let her in.

The room was relatively small, a wider bed would have made it almost claustrophobic. The walls were whitish eggshell color, the comforter was a dark, navy blue. Everywhere Maeve looked there was a chess or science fair trophy, or a poster-sized list featuring quotes from Einstein, Sagan, Young, Beethoven, Ben Franklin and others taped to the wall. She immediately recognized the remnants of Spencer's attempt to build a penrose triangle, sitting on the surface of a small desk against one wall. Perhaps the most interesting item though, was a large chess trophy, sitting on the floor near the desk. What made this one of particular interest was the fact that it was only half a trophy, as if it had been cut in two right down the middle.

"What's with that one?" Maeve asked, pointing at it.

"Oh that... when my friend Peter and I were ten we competed against each other in the championship round of the national youth chess tournament... we tied... we managed to check each other and then checkmate each other at the same time... so the trophy went to both of us. Peter's father cut it in half with a chainsaw..." he explained.

The next morning, Spencer found himself being dragged out of bed (literally) by his ankles, by Paul. Of course, the room was still pitch black and between that and the fact that he was still groggy, he didn't recognize Paul at first so he drew his weapon on him.

"Hey man, watch where you aim that thing! It's me, Paul... we're going snowboarding, remember? You promised..."

"What time is it?" Spencer asked.

"it's 4:45..."

"Paul... go back to your room...and come back in an hour..."

"Yeah that's not happening." he said, tightening his grip on Spencer's ankles.

With that, Paul dragged his cousin all the way down the stairs to the dimly-lit dining room, where they found Nana already up, dressed, and ready for the day.

Spencer was finally let go when he came to rest on the side of the dining table closest to the kitchen. He forced himself up and into a chair just as Paul sat down across from him.

Nana set a plate of fresh fried eggs and turkey sausages in front of each of her grandsons.

"You know Nana, you didn't half to get up at the crack of dawn to make us breakfast..." Paul pointed out.

She turned to look at them. "Just how often do good home-cooked meals come your way? You both work very hard and for hours that would make a lot of people cringe... I know how that can be... and frankly it saddens me how likely it is that you boys survive of vending machine snacks and takeout food. So while I have you here, I'm going to take every opportunity to cook for you and remind you what real food tastes like."

They both smiled at her.

"Thanks Nana" they said.

"You're welcome boys."

When they finished eating, put on heavy snow gear, fortunately, they were the same size and Paul owned two or two sets of everything they needed.

Once they suited up, they headed out toward the mountain.

It took three hours for them to reach the top of the slope.

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this..." Spencer said, as he stood there on the snowboard, looking at the slope ahead of him.

"Relax, just remember, use your arms to balance, don't look away from the slope in front of you and watch out for roots and trees once we hit the wooded areas." Paul told him, then he pushed Spencer onto the slope and started immediately after him.

It was amazing. Spencer's fear and inhibitions were gone, he was no-longer terrified but actually happy, and it was...strangely exhilarating...until he saw Paul slam into a tree. That's when he did one of the things he'd been specifically told not to do. He looked back to see if Paul was ok... and his board got caught in a root sticking out above the snow and he was sent flying like a human torpedo.

Paul let go of the tree he'd slammed into and rubbed his head where he'd hit the trunk with it. When he took his hand away it was bright red... he was bleeding. Fantastic! Now I'll never get him to come with me again. He rose shakily to his feet and got off his now broken snowboard. Then he began limping after his cousin.

He hadn't gotten very far when he saw the other snowboard and heard Spencer scream in the distance as he flew through the air. At least he'd gotten beyond the wooded area before he crashed... but where would he end up?

Back at the house, Sarah found herself pacing worriedly up and down the length of the porch. They should have been back by now, it was almost three in the afternoon... where were they? Her gut said that something bad had probably happened to them. Where could they be?

When Paul finally found Spencer, he was lying face down at the edge of a river at the bottom of the slope with his head in the water.

Dear God... please tell me I didn't just get Spencer killed!

He half ran, half fell ran down the mountain toward his cousin as fast as his injured body allowed.

When he finally reached him, he turned Spencer over as carefully and gently as possible and put his middle and forefinger to his corotted artery and his other hand on Spencer's chest... he could feel only a slow, weak pulse and Spencer wasn't breathing. Paul gave his cousin CPR until at last he took a breath and coughed several gulps of river water out of his lungs.

In the distance, he heard Joey calling their names.

"Joey! Over here! We're here! We need help!" Paul shouted over and over again until Joey saw them.

Once Joey got a good look at his brother's scared, exhausted face, and the blood still coming from the side of Paul's forehead and saw his cousin's soaked, frozen, limp body... his marine-core training took over.

He through Spencer over his shoulders and pulled Paul to his feet, then dragged them both back to the house.

"Guys! Get out here! Houston we have a problem!" He yelled. Everyone came running.

"Good Merciful Heavens! What happened?" Nana asked, everyone else appeared at a loss for words. Once Nana recovered from the sheer horror a minute later, she did what she did best...take charge in a crisis.

"Joseph bring them inside this instant... Timothy, go get the doctor, Sarah get the blankets, the hot water bottles, and the first aid kit out of the closet! Robin I want every fireplace and wood stove in this house lit, we have to get them warmed up and Maeve... don't leave his side..." She'd given the orders and everyone did what they were told.

Less than an hour later, Dr. Marllo, who was a short, stout man who was around Nana's age but like her, looked younger that he really was, was carefully removing pieces of bark from the wound in Paul's forehead so that he could clean it and stitch it up.. As he did this he gave a sigh of frustration. He had known all five of them pretty much their whole lives and was all too familiar with Paul's reckless exploits.

"You do of course realize Dear Boy, that you both were very nearly killed?" He asked.

"Yes... I know..." Paul replied. "But this time it wasn't my fault. Spencer was doing just fine until he looked back at me, and something hit me before I hit the tree. I was off balance already, that's why I couldn't avoid that tree."

"However it happened, you my young friend... should stay where you are for now... at this point if you were to get up you'd risk injuring yourself further... and we can't have that...now can we?"

"No sir..." Paul said with a small, exhausted smile.

Dr. Marllo smiled back and then went to make sure that hypothermia was the full extent of Spencer's issues. He found Spencer on a couch in a different room, wrapped in three blankets with hot-water bottles in between them.

Thankfully it was, well, there were a few scrapes but nothing big or unexpected... physically at least... though whether the relationship between cousins had been injured as well, remained to be seen.

Paul laid there on the couch in the living room off the dining room, the one with the front door, with nothing to do but stare at the corner and the archway that led to the formal living room where he knew they'd taken Spencer. Paul was known as the slightly reckless type, he was rarely scared, and he showed fear less often than that... this was one of those rare times... He was scared that his whole family, Spencer in particular, would be angry with him... He resolved to wait and see.

He could hear Nana rummaging through the hall closet...muttering to herself about the quilts she'd made for them when they were children and where was Spencer's and who's dumb idea had it been to pack them away in boxes in the first place... just Nana being Nana, and on any other day, Paul would've gotten up to help...but he knew if he did she'd just yell at him and worry more, and quite possibly threaten to tie him up... actually, he wouldn't put that past her...

The next morning, when they had both warmed up and Paul could actually move. The two met in the hallway to talk about what had happened.

"Spencer... I..." Paul began.

"You don't need to apologize." Spencer said.

"I don't?"

"No... you warned me not to look back, and I didn't listen... plus you were right. It was fun while it lasted..."

Paul grinned.

"But I do have something to ask you..." Spencer told him.

"Anything..."

"What's bothering you?"

"What? Nothing's bothering me, why would you think something was bothering me?" Paul replied too quickly.

"You don't pull reckless stunts anymore unless you're stressed, and when you replied just now your voice got a little higher and you spoke twice as fast. That's your tell... So what is it Paul?"

"I got promoted to captain two weeks ago..."

"What? Congratulations!" Spencer exclaimed.

"Thanks..." Paul said un-enthusiastically.

"Was that...supposed to be a bad thing? I don't understand how that's a bad thing..."

"I only got promoted because Captain Bruckstan died of a heart attack a month ago and by seniority, I was next in line to take his place if he ever got promoted or left the force. It's a bad thing because first of all I never wanted it to happen this way, and secondly... I'm. Not. Ready." he explained.

"Oh..."

"What if I make a fool of myself or disgrace the department or give an order that gets someone shot...or...or..."

"Paul. Calm down. You're a good detective, much more of a natural leader than I am... you can do this. You won't do any of those things."

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do..."

Paul: "That's what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you're not so lovable." - Deb Coletti


End file.
